Even Tomatoes Can Love
by A Drop of Starlight
Summary: All right, so I fell in love with a fucking tomato. Doesn't mean I'm crazy...
1. Introduction

_**Warning:** Author has confirmed this to be 99.99% mindless, random humor. The remaining 0.01% of seriousness is not guaranteed. In addition, swear words are generously distributed where appropriate. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those with gentle ears and innocent minds._

_**And Disclaimer:** Hetalia is the sole property of Hidekaz Himaruya, who has been so kind as to allow tear-jerking/laughter-inducing/otherwise lovable displays of his characters._

* * *

**Even Tomatoes Can Love**

**1. Introduction - or, No Strangers Allowed**

How do I even start this? Am I supposed to introduce myself? Why should I introduce myself?

This is my own damn book, and I put it under lock and key, and hid it in the biggest crack under the floorboards, and guard it every day with a fucking security camera. So why are you reading this? You should be getting your sorry ass out of here.

I assume you're not that scared though, since you're obviously STILL reading, so you must be a professional stalker or assassin or something like that. Well then, you'd better not be doing anything with this shit, because there's a curse on it too, and I put it on there, personally. PERSONALLY. Like the mummy curses, only worse. You'll hear my voice shouting profanities into your ear in Italian and English and Spanish until you grow deaf and dumb and regret ever opening my book.

Okay, okay.

If you got this far you passed the fucking test. You obviously found the key and got the password straight from my mouth (which you fucking didn't) or you asked a certain sappy bastard to get it _from_ me, _for_ you (which he probably did). Well then, good job. I applaud you.

(No, I fucking don't.)

Anyway.

For the fucking record, my name is Lovino Vargas. I'm seventeen. I'm Italian, but I live in America right now (surprise). I go to the local high school and I'm not popular and I don't have many friends and I'm boring as hell. You know how the story goes. Only, I'm not _just _a story. I'm obviously way better than that.

Oh, and if you're Feliciano, better get your nose out of my shit before I smack you with a paintbrush. Also don't you _DARE_ think about bringing that potato bastard into the house!

I just had to say that.

Moving on. I was just saying there's nothing special about me. In fact, there's been nothing special for the past sixteen years.

Except this year, BUT—

Not telling you yet.

Yeah, yeah, he _wants _me to write it down so I can remember this oh-so-wonderful episode of my life, and 'cherish it for years to come'! His EXACT WORDS! Oh, how very lovely and romantic. I was totally looking forward to that myself.

(That was sarcasm, by the way.)

Well, on second thought, maybe I _do _want to remember it, because it was just the tiniest fucking bit more interesting than my normal, not-interesting life! And maybe because he does mean something to me... yeah.

... I really really hope that bastard's not reading this bullshit right now.

Also, I'm not fucking asking you to _believe _every single word of what I'm writing! Because you probably won't anyway. But one thing... please please PLEASE don't laugh.

I can hear you laughing already.

Don't. Fucking. _Laugh._

Please.

Or else I'll hunt you down and punch you in the gut and find your diary and laugh at it too. And READ IT ALL OUT LOUD. To your family and your friends and that one person you like to kiss a lot and who you _still _deny dating. Trust me, I _will _do it. I don't break promises.

_You heard me._

So.

With that said, I will start on this embarrassing-as-fuck story that you _promised not to laugh at, you asshat. _You are going to keep it a secret ahem or else. And I'm only going to tell it once! ONLY ONCE! And if I hear a word about this from anyone this is going into the fire, book and pen and all. No evidence, nothing. You didn't hear it from me, and also you'll be dead by then.

I'm not going to a fucking mental hospital on account of this shit.

... Wow. I just wasted an entire page on this useless introduction crap that wasn't even _supposed_ to be an introduction.

And now I have to actually START.

Fuck.

This is not going to be fun.

AllrightsoIbetterbeginbeforeIlosemytrainofthoughtandfuckingtearthisup.

So I'll tell you this much, right now:

It started with a tomato.

Well, everything starts with tomatoes because I fucking _love_ tomatoes (how can you not? If you don't you need to see a doctor) but this one was different. It was special. It glowed and it was beautiful and it would talk to me, only me—

I'm completely sane, I swear.

But it was the single most perfect little thing I ever saw in my entire life.

Aaagh.

...

All right, so I fell in love with a fucking tomato.

Doesn't mean I'm crazy...

Because that's not how it looks! It wasn't!

It wasn't just a fucking tomato!

JUST READ THE REST OF THIS SHIT BEFORE YOU START LAUGHING, DAMMIT.


	2. The Fucking Tomato

**2. The Fucking Tomato**

* * *

I swear to fucking God it was Friday the 13th that it happened.

And actually, before the tomato it started with a dare. Well, a lot of things start with dares—except they're all bad as hell. The one Gilbert challenged me to, though, was different.

Now I remember.

It _was_ Friday the 13th.

And I was dumb enough to assume it would be nice and normal that day. As if. Nothing _ever_ goes nicely when you're Lovino Vargas. Tough beans, they all say.

... Who needs nice, anyway.

* * *

I lived on the outskirts of the city back then, not by choice of course. After Dad left, which I really don't want to talk about right now, we moved so Feliciano and I could change schools and all that shit. Mom took us to live with our Nonno, and I thought it was gonna be great until I saw that old fart's face. I swear, the moment I stepped through the door I could see the hate in his eyes. Just for a minute, and then he was all happy and rainbow-y and sappy as fuck when Feli arrived.

Yeah, I tend to give people a great impression. Old clothes and pinched face and frowns and swear words. That's me, all right.

And I'm fucking proud of it.

Anyway we lived there for a long-ass time, and it just so happened to be the nastiest neighborhood I ever set foot in. The people were mean as hell, the streets were dirty 24/7, there were always weird owl noises at night, shit like that. But the worst part I found out two days after we settled in Nonno's uncomfortable, stuffy old house.

There was this huge old abandoned mansion on the street that looked like it was fucking haunted or something.

I still think it was.

It was this old place, almost falling apart, with stone gargoyle-like things and those tall black gates that you see in scary mansions in the movies—the ones where you walk in and never come out. Later I found out the weird noises mostly came from that place. And there were always a lot of suspicious things going on over there.

Now guess what the best part was:

The place was **RIGHT NEXT TO OURS!**

I'm still amazed that I survived.

* * *

So, like I said, what happened was a dare.

I got into it because of Gilbert Beilschmidt, that potato bastard #2. He's annoying and thinks he's awesome and all that but he's not really that bad. (Don't tell him I said that.) And he was the first 'friend' I made at school, partly thanks to Feli, so I wasn't complaining because I'd be lonely as hell if it weren't for him.

He's kind of weird, actually. He says and does a lot of weird shit. One of them (his favorite) is making people do things that he's too scared to do for himself. I always wonder why Elizaveta sticks with him but maybe it's just to complement his lack of toughness.

Gilbert likes dares.

He really does.

Just not doing them himself.

Which wasn't lucky for me that one fine Friday the 13th, when he tried to get back at me for daring him to tell Elizaveta he was madly in love with her. (The sappy loser. He really _was_ in love with her.)

Anyway.

It was only three days after that fateful confession and Eli was being mean to him and avoiding him. Of course he had to get mad at _me, _even though I saw how fucking obsessed they were with each other, and only wanted to help.

But he still had to get revenge on me, like the ungrateful bastard he was.

Three days and he thought up the dare to trump all dares.

He wasn't giving it to me yet, though.

"Meet me over at that old place tonight, next to your house," he said that morning, all happily and shit, like it was no big deal. (But it was.)

"I'm not going outside at night," I spat back.

Gilbert laughed at me, which made me want to punch his face. "Just come anyway, don't be a pussy," he said just to piss me off. "I'll tell you what to do when we get there."

That was all he would say on the matter, and that alone should have made me suspicious, but I guess I wasn't thinking straight that time.

Hell, I sure was in for it that time.

* * *

I didn't tell Feli I was sneaking out; he wouldn't have noticed anyway since he was painting in his room and talking to someone he liked on the phone. I didn't say anything _yet_, since I figured I could always grill him if I survived the dare.

_IF._

I remember I ate my pasta very slowly and carefully that day, so I could savor what might be the last meal I ever ate. I think I was extra nice to everyone too (_even _Nonno) because I thought I might never see them again.

I remember it was also pretty damn cold that day, so I bundled up and everything. It was evening by the time Gilbo the Idiot called to tell me everyone was there.

So I had to sneak out of the house without Mom and Nonno noticing. And that wasn't an easy thing to do.

You see, Mom was still young and fast and she knew me better than anyone else except Feli and myself. One look into my eyes and she would know I had planned something shitty. Nonno was the same way, and what was worse, he would also give me that disgusted look that always went something like, 'Wow I wish I never took you in, you miserable little piece of crap.' At least that's how it seemed to me, but Mom always tried to convince me he was cranky due to old age.

Sure thing, Mom. He favors Feli more than me. He still does. (Don't you all?)

But the point was, they would have grabbed me and chained me to a chair for questioning if they knew I was leaving past dinner. There was also the danger that they might see me through the window, but I couldn't do shit about that.

I had learned the art of iceberg movement though, so they didn't notice when I inched past the door and past the couch and past the bookcases and around the corner and down the stairs.

Well, they might have heard the back door close behind me (it was a fucking heavy door), but by the time they got there I think I was gone.

It took me a goddamn hour. But I was proud as hell still.

Gilbert and his little yellow bird and Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy were there. I didn't know why the last two were there. They were fucking annoying and they seemed to like each other in a very twisted, perverted way. I avoided them and pretended nothing was happening as we went over to the haunted house—I mean, old mansion.

We stopped there for a minute—and guess what Gilbert said.

"I dare you to climb over there and get that tomato."

Those were his exact words.

**HIS EXACT FUCKING WORDS.**

The word 'tomato,' though, caught my attention, and I looked where he was pointing.

It was in the courtyard of that mansion, in the middle of all that dead grass and debris and shit. A single little plant, drooping over because it had no support, and at the top hung a single red fruit.

A fucking tomato.

A fucking tomato plant was growing in that old dead place. I couldn't fucking believe my eyes.

But I swear, the moment I laid eyes on that tomato I knew it was mine. It was different from any other tomato I had ever grown or eaten—it was the single shiniest, reddest, biggest, juiciest-looking tomato in existence. I could have composed sonnets on it, but mostly I just wanted to taste it. My mouth watered at the sight and I heard Gilbert laugh in my face.

"See, I knew you'd be up for this," he said and I gave him the finger.

"If there's a curse on it or some shit, you're still paying."

His face drooped and I had the last laugh (ha!) before carefully climbing up the gates and swinging over onto the other side.

Oh damn.

Now the tomato was just five feet away from me.

Five fucking feet.

I took one step toward it, then a second. And a third. And a fourth. And a—

Right when my hand touched the tomato I felt a weird jolt shoot up my arm. It was almost like an electric shock, although it didn't hurt. Still unfazed, I grabbed the tomato right off the stalk, noticing how strangely warm it felt...

... Almost as if it were alive.

"_Thought you'd never come for me_..." someone whispered, and I jumped five fucking feet in the air.

"Shit!" I cried and turned to run. The voice kept talking, something I couldn't hear because my heart was pounding like hell. I dropped the tomato into my pocket and hightailed it to the gate, and by that time it had quieted down, but I wasn't about to slow down _now. _

I made it over with shaky, sweaty hands and almost dropped into the arms of Gilbert, Francis, and Arthur.

"Whoa there, you look like you just ran a marathon," Gilbert smirked, earning a painful smack to the shoulder. "All right, sorry, you win... but I still win because I'm awesome." Made no fucking sense every time.

"Did you hear the voice?" I asked them nervously (and I had a goddamn good reason to be nervous). But they looked at me strangely and shook their heads.

"Maybe you're hearing things, love," Arthur said breezily as we went back around to my house. "Tell me if it happens again though, I know some things that might help..."

"You mean, black magic," Francis sniggered, and Arthur glared at him, and they started fighting again like the lovesick couple they were. I for my part ignored them because that was fucking beneath me, and abandoned them at the porch.

* * *

I won't talk about how I even got back in, because that was a struggle and I was found out that time. The only thing that saved me was the tomato in my pocket: when Mom found it she just gave a sigh.

"You and your tomatoes, Lovi," she said hopelessly, and grounded me for a week. I was fine with that though.

After the interrogation was over I washed the tomato in the sink. Then I went to my room and locked the door, planning to eat it in peace and quiet without any interruption from anyone.

Maybe I was just a _little _bit brainless to try and eat it, since for all I knew it could be poisoned or something. But I _was _kind of a dumbass back then. I admit it.

The tomato seemed to shine in the light when I took it out. It was still warm, very warm, just like it had absorbed all the heat from the sun and kept it there. I polished it, looked at its perfection one last time, and lifted it to my mouth.

It was one inch away from my teeth when a voice suddenly said, _"NO!"_

Naturally I screamed and nearly dropped the tomato because _that was fucking scary_. At first I thought some stalker had gotten into my room, but there was no one, not in the closet or behind the curtains or under the bed. Finally I concluded it must have been the wind (I know, smart, right?) and stopped looking. I also had to explain to Mom that I'd had a nightmare when I tried to sleep, but she didn't look like she believed me.

She did see how tired I was, though, and left me alone after that. So I was grateful.

And I tried to eat the tomato again.

And again the same voice spoke up.

"_No_," it cried, "_don't eat me_!"

This time I could only stare at the tomato.

There was only one damn thing in the world right now that could be scared of being eaten—if it was alive, that is.

"Did it just fucking... _talk_?"

I made the mistake of muttering aloud and suddenly the voice piped up.

"_Yes, yes, it did! You heard me, didn't you_?"

I nearly dropped the tomato again and swore at it.

"You are not talking to me." I glared at the tomato, feeling even more stupid, and plopped it on the bedside table. Guess who wasn't going to eat tonight because of a near-traumatic experience.

A few more sounds came from the tomato (?) as I turned off the light and tried to sleep.

But I found I _couldn't _sleep, no matter how hard I tried. I felt as though something were piercing through my eyelids, and after a few minutes I realized it was bright light, extremely bright light.

I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face with the damn tomato.

It was glowing red.

"Oh, fuck," I said to myself. It was the only thing I COULD say—I knew right then and there that this was no ordinary tomato, and I mentally slapped myself. What the fuck had I gotten myself into, accepting Gilbert's damn dare?

Maybe this was just another of his pranks. Maybe it was just Arthur's supposed magic tricks, and they were just doing this to spook me. Just maybe.

Actually, it had to be. My nerves were strained and I felt that if anything else happened I might lose all my fucking marbles.

So, very carefully and slowly, I reached out and poked the tomato with a finger.

"_OUCH_!"

**_THE TOMATO HAD FUCKING SPOKEN._**

I inhaled sharply and pulled my finger away.

"What the fuck is this shit?" I hissed at the tomato. This time I was sure Gilbert had put a tape recorder in there or something, just to speak and spite me.

But the voice was unlike any I had ever heard. There was an accent to it—and not Gilbert's German accent. Not Arthur's or Francis's either. I didn't recognize it.

"_Hey, don't be scared. I was more scared of you. Thought you were going to eat me up or throw me away or something_."

"Please tell me I'm not fucking insane," I muttered to myself. "Arthur was right. I _am_ hearing things..."

"_No, you're not_!"

"I'm not talking to a damn tomato."

"_I'm not a tomato! Well, maybe I am, but... My name is Antonio_!"

I smacked my forehead in an attempt to get rid of the voice and refused to look at the tomato. It seemed to have grown even brighter, so watching it would have hurt my eyes anyway.

"Stop bothering me or I'll throw you out the window."

"_No! Wait! I can prove to you I'm alive! Look_!"

I was foolish enough to look.

The tomato glowed very brightly—very very brightly—and then suddenly the room was filled with red light and I almost screamed and nearly blacked out. But the light faded just as quickly as it came and I opened my eyes and standing before me was—was a—

Okay, my hand hurts from writing now.

But.

It was... a GUY.

**_I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IT WAS A GUY!_**

And there went my Friday the 13th.


	3. A Really Weird Not-Acquaintance

**3. A Really Weird Not-Acquaintance**

* * *

I thought I was going crazy.

No really - BECAUSE A FUCKING PERSON HAD JUST APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE.

LITERALLY.

The first thing I (almost) did was screa I MEAN YELL because I'm fucking manly like that but the boy was like "Oh no!" and before I knew it he had his hand over my mouth like - like he had his fucking _hand_ over my _mouth_.

Then I _really_ screa-

YELLED.

Which Mom heard, so she came racing up the stairs and banged on my door. Then came Feli and Nonno, who very distinctly said "What the hell is wrong with that kid now?" Which was kind of sad because obviously this sort of thing happened _all the damn time_.

So a scream-fest started and I was YELLING my head off until Mom got her keys and finally opened the door. The whole fucking family barged in and I pointed a very calm finger at that boy called Antonio, who was standing right there very frozen and scared in front of me.

"HOW DID HE GET IN HERE?" I said in a not-freaking-out way.

And no one will fucking believe what they said but everyone was like:

"Who?"

I gestured VERY FUCKING CLEARLY at Antonio (I probably poked him in the eye) and _still _the idiots didn't notice. That was when I started getting scared- I mean nervous.

So I asked them very calmly if they were fucking kidding me and Feli had the nerve to say this.

"What's wrong with you, fratello?"

And that did it.

I was so fucking mad I told them I was going to sleep, and Mom said yeah you're probably tired you should go do that. The second they left I made sure to slam the door in their faces.

I also opened the window and asked Antonio to kindly get the hell out of my room. But of course he didn't, he looked at me like I was spouting shit.

"I can't," he said. "I'm stuck with you now."

Which meant my life as I knew it was over.

But Antonio must have realized what I was thinking, because suddenly he was all "But it's okay! I'll take care of you and everything! Even if I came from the tomato and no one can see me and stuff-"

Which set me off again and I (almost) yelled at him.

"Why the fuck didn't they see you? What fucking sorcery is this?"

"I don't know!" Antonio protested, raising his hands up in surrender. As if that would help. "All I know is that I had a curse put on me!"

I stared at him like a gaping fish out of water. But he looked completely fucking serious and well hell, that scared me a little.

"You're joking, right?"

"No." He looked a little shell-shocked too. "You know that house where you found me - I mean the tomato? Well, I was fooling around in there and someone inside saw me. He trapped me in the tomato and told me I'd stay there until another person freed me and took me home."

AND HE WAS FUCKING SERIOUS.

I backed away because that was the best thing to do right then.

"Stop making things up. Just get back to - wherever you're supposed to be, okay!?"

"I don't have anywhere to go," he whined like a small kid. Which he wasn't because he looked at least as old as me. God, he was annoying. "Can't I just stay with you now? No one will know I'm here."

"Yeah, but they'll SEE the damn tomato and ask what the hell I'm doing with it!"

I was really actually fucking considering this oh lord oh god oh damn oh _fuck_.

Antonio looked pretty hopeful too.

"_Please_?" he whimpered, in a small cute voice that was not cute, and making his eyes all huge and shit. They were very green. His face was very pleading. His clothes (I noticed) were a little old. Aaand I felt just the tiniest bit sorry for him - but not really you know what I mean.

So I said, "Fine."

Instantly Antonio's face changed - he practically _lit up _like a fucking street lamp. And suddenly he pounced on me and tried to give me a - a HUG.

"OhmyfuckingGodgetoffme!"

After I threatened to pry him off with a pair of tweezers he finally let go, and looked at me like I was God almighty or something. Well, I thought that was pretty neat, because who doesn't want to be worshipped now and then? And it was about time someone recognized my badassery okay.

Except the three idiots outside, who must've thought I needed mental help.

But it didn't matter. I had a new friend cough acquaintance from who-knows-where, who was very grateful to me and would probably do anything I said. (Hopefully.)

In exchange for my tomato, it wasn't too bad.

Not really.

Only I had to force him off the bed and back into his tomato.

Which was so fucking weird I won't talk about it anymore. I hope he's not reading this right now or I'll punch the shit out of him.

See if I don't.

* * *

LOOOOOOVIIII THIS IS SO CUTEEE AND YOU WROTE SO MUUUCH

I KNEW YOU LOVED ME :D MI TOMATE :DDD

* * *

**HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE **

**I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP**

* * *

_**very long a/n which is not actually an a/n because i fucking wish i was an author**_

_okay so i finally decided to continue with this despite the fact that it is pointless and ridiculous and i always try to make a point with stories and this one was just on a whim. but yeah._

_uhhhhh well really i was feeling like crap and tried to cheer myself up and ended up with this __and it didn't really work but at least you guys get a new chapter riiiiiight? i hope this wasn't too crappy sorry AND PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS STORY SERIOUSLY LMAO_

_and yes i will update El Corazon del Pirata and some other things soon i just need to make some really major edits whoops_

_also i had to remove about twenty swears in this thing because this is basically me keeping a diary and i swear so much you don't even know it's like an automatic reflex that i have to restrain while writing authors' notes HAHAHABYE_


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